Chapter 3: First Meeting on a Rainy Night

“Power…”

Vilan murmured.

He had never craved Power so much before.

If only he were stronger, would his mother not have…

“Your Highness Vilan, don’t lose hope. I believe that one day you’ll avenge Her Highness the Empress.”

“I will.”

Vilan closed his eyes, falling silent.

He didn’t want to say anything more, only wishing for a moment of quiet.

He didn’t understand the original owner in the game, nor did he ever expect to experience something like this himself.

He remembered that in the game, he was just a mad villain chasing Power.

So… Was the pursuit of Power and madness all because of his mother’s death?

The original also fell for the heroine’s harem, the Saintess of the church, because he felt her warmth and gentleness.

In truth, the Saintess was like that to everyone, but that tenderness was especially precious to the original after such tragedy.

Vilan gave a bitter smile.

He always thought the original was just a foolish clown, but now realized it was because of the trauma of witnessing such events.

The two female Yao guards also fell silent as they watched Vilan.

They could only lead him away without a word.

They, too, had watched Vilan grow up.

How could they not ache for what he now endured?

“Stop.”

One of the guards suddenly spoke.

The other, holding Vilan’s arm, also came to a halt.

“Daila, what’s wrong? Is something happening?”

Vilan’s dull eyes followed their gaze.

A human man in silver armor stood under a tree, blocking their path.

“What beautiful Yao ladies. Would you mind handing over the child in your care?”

The man’s eyes narrowed, a confident smile on his face.

Vilan looked at his squinting eyes—people like this were always troublesome.

The two guards exchanged glances.

The one named “Daila” stepped forward, blocking the human.

“Aier, take His Highness and go. I’ll deal with this one.”

“Okay.”

Without hesitation, Aier pulled Vilan and dashed away.

The man tried to give chase, but Daila stepped in his way.

“Your opponent is me.”

The man could only watch as Vilan was taken away.

“So the rumors are true. A male Yao…”

Vilan was whisked away at full speed by Aier, who carried him in her arms through the river valley, leaving only a fading blur behind.

Beyond the valley was a dense forest, but Aier remained vigilant.

She looked down at Vilan, hesitated, and then decided to hand over the item she had been entrusted with, just in case.

“Your Highness, please don’t be sad anymore. In case of emergencies ahead, I must give you what Her Highness the Empress entrusted to me.”

“This is a Letter, magically processed and hard to destroy. Her Highness specifically instructed that it would serve as your proof of entry into Aurora Academy. Once you’re there, you’ll be safe. The other is this Ring, which can hide your Yao horns. Be sure to wear it.”

Aier handed both items to Vilan.

He raised his head, staring intently at them, then nodded and put them away.

The pain in his heart couldn’t be stopped.

Unable to save his mother, all he could do now was seek vengeance for her.

He tucked the Letter into his chest and slid the Ring onto his finger.

When he reached up, his horns were gone.

Hiding his horns was necessary—not just to conceal his identity or to avoid suspicion about his gender, but because his horns were the rare Feathered Horns of the royal Yao bloodline.

Ordinary Yao only had normal horns.

“Good.”

Aier smiled.

She was glad to see Vilan pull himself together.

If it had been the younger Vilan, he might have fallen apart after all this.

“Let’s keep moving…”

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you can’t leave.”

A familiar voice rang out.

Vilan froze at the sight of the newcomer.

If anyone else had stopped him, he could accept it.

But this person—he truly couldn’t bear it.

“Selair aunt…”

Vilan’s eyes were filled with disbelief.

The woman before him had been his mother’s strongest guard and, in many ways, his second mother.

Had she betrayed his mother, too?

“Yes, Your Highness Vilan.”

Selair greeted him with her usual gentle tone, as if she wasn’t there to stop them at all.

“Don’t tell me you betrayed my mother too?”

Vilan stepped forward, questioning her.

“I have never betrayed Her Highness the Empress. But I must capture you.”

With that, Selair swung her sword in a flash.

Aier began chanting a spell, pouring out Magic.

Brilliant mana became a blazing torch, firing blue spheres of light.

“I sing with the sword.”

Selair’s blade shone with silver light.

She was an oddity among the Yao—a woman who loved the sword.

“Your Highness Vilan, you’ll have to walk the rest of this path alone.”

Aier resisted with all her might, but was still overwhelmed by the blade of this Yao.

In an instant, her energy turned to dust.

“Yes, Aunt Aier. Take care.”

Vilan darted around Selair and ran.

Selair watched him go before turning her gaze to Aier.

***

He could only run in the direction Aier had flown with him.

Raindrops drenched Vilan’s gown and his gray hair hung wetly.

He no longer cared.

He kept unleashing the arcane “Time” and “Space” to speed himself up.

Even so, he could hear pursuit behind him.

A squad of human knights was chasing after him.

“Are they all dogs? Why are they chasing so hard…”

Vilan could only run faster.

But then something even worse happened—a cliff ahead.

Vilan’s expression didn’t change.

Maybe this was her chance to escape.

For his mother.

For Ilian and the others.

She had to survive.

She clenched her fists.

Without hesitation, she jumped.

The knights, late to arrive, stared in disbelief at the chasm before them.

They couldn’t believe Vilan had really leapt.

Endless winds battered Vilan as he plummeted.

She couldn’t control her body.

The rain pelted harder.

Thunder rolled in the darkness.

Vilan forced herself to stay calm, gauging the distance to the ground.

Of course, she wasn’t stupid enough to let herself fall to her death.

“Time.”

She quickly wove arcane energy, slowing her body in an instant.

She floated down, like a parachute opening.

Once she’d spotted the right spot, Vilan waved her hand again.

“Space.”

A doorway of light opened before her.

Vilan fell into its glow, enveloped in starlight.

The next moment, she rolled onto an open meadow, landing in a spray of water.

“This should be safe now, right?”

She quickly stood, looked around, and, seeing no danger, let out a sigh.

Finally, she glanced up at the cliff.

“Goodbye… Mother…”

Vilan took the Black Veil from her chest and stared at it deeply, hiding all her sorrow in her heart before putting it away again.

***

“This rain is really something.”

A lazy, soft voice echoed.

A girl sat in a carriage, pulling open the curtain to look outside.

She seemed an elf from the secret realms of the night, deep brown hair flowing over pale cheeks, messy strands scattering the light.

Melancholy fogged her brows, her gray eyes hinting at ennui, her whole being radiating a languid, indescribable charm.

“A perfect night for my funeral… Don’t you think, Mr. Charlie?”

Her lazy gaze turned to the old man beside her.

“What is Princess talking about? I don’t quite understand. By the Prince’s orders, I will do all I can to escort you to Aurora Academy.”

“I mean… Mr. Charlie, as the family’s old butler, you sure chose a new master quickly, didn’t you?”

As she spoke, the old butler Charlie slowly drew a dagger from behind him.

A cold light flashed.

“Hehe… So the little Princess figured it out. What a shame. I hoped to kill you without your knowing. Please don’t blame me—I’m doing this for the future of the nation…”

Charlie raised the dagger to strike.

But suddenly, the blade shattered in his hand, splintering into pieces that drove into his throat.

“Why…”

He could only fall, disbelief in his eyes.

“My dear sister… Even living again, you want me dead…”

The girl smiled bitterly and shook her head, sighing.

At that moment, Vilan was already exhausted, his magic nearly depleted.

“I can’t go on. I really can’t. I need to rest.”

He stopped to catch his breath.

Then, suddenly, a carriage barreled toward him—and stopped right at his face.

“What’s happening?”

Vilan stepped back, alert.

He saw the armored coachman speaking to someone inside, and then a body was carried out.

No way, he thought.

Had he stumbled upon a corpse dump in the middle of the night?

Vilan prayed silently that no one had seen him, edging back.

“Who’s there!”

The coachman spotted him instantly, shouting.

“Not good…”

Vilan couldn’t waste his narrow escape.

He forced his tired body to run again.

But how could an exhausted Vilan outrun a fresh knight?

He barely made it ten meters before a blade pinned his clothes to the wall.

Cold sweat broke out.

He’d nearly been skewered.

Thus, Vilan was captured, the knight eyeing him strangely.

He knew what the knight wondered.

It was embarrassing for a grown man to be caught in a dress.

“Miss, this one saw Charlie’s body. Should we dispose of him?”

Vilan struggled and begged.

He’d only lived sixteen years in this world, still a minor, and after all that, still had to avenge his mother Ilian.

He couldn’t die here.

“Don’t… Kill me. I saw nothing. I don’t know you.”

“Quiet. Your fate will be decided by my Miss.”

The knight warned.

Vilan could only fall silent.

He could only pray that this ‘Miss’ was a good person.

“Oh?”

A curious voice sounded from the carriage.

A pale hand lifted the curtain, revealing the Miss’s face.

Vilan’s face darkened.

“Why is it her…”

Yes.

The girl before him was none other than the damn heroine of this yuri visual novel—the Devourer King, the Sea King herself, Celeste Rosenthal.

“A cute… Little boy?”

At first sight of Vilan’s dress, Celeste’s eyes lit with anticipation.

Then, seeing Vilan’s face, disgust flashed by, replaced by calm.

Vilan could only lower his head.

Even if Celeste said such things, he could only endure.

“Tuze, don’t be so tense. He’s just a regular child. He’s soaked; let him sit inside too.”

“But Miss, someone of unknown origin—”

Tuze was cut off by Celeste’s voice.

“Don’t worry, Tuze. Did you forget I just dealt with Charlie? I can handle it.”

“Understood.”

The knight could only swallow his protest.

Released, Vilan relaxed a bit, his view of Celeste shifting.

He hadn’t expected the heroine to be so kind as to invite him inside.

Wasn’t she supposed to dislike men?

“Thank you for your kindness, Miss.”

He accepted without hesitation.

To refuse would be to slight Celeste.

He glanced at her calm face, then at the butler’s corpse on the ground, thoughtful.

He knew this scene.

Wasn’t the opening of the game the butler’s betrayal and reverse kill?

So Celeste had already killed the butler here?

He recalled that in the plot, after killing the butler, the heroine felt fear and pain, having been betrayed by her sister.

Yet now she seemed calm.

“You’re drenched. Dry off.”

Celeste tossed him a handkerchief.

Vilan looked up at her.

She remained calm and languid, a faint smile at her lips.

Whatever Celeste’s reasons, in that moment, drenched by the rain, Vilan felt warmth in his heart.

His sorrowful eyes glimmered.

“Thank you…”